Diary of a
Wickedly Cool Witch
Bullies and Baddies
Kate Cullen
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No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any matter whatsoever without the written and signed permission of the author.
All trademarked names are the property of their owner and are acknowledged by the proper use of capitalization throughout.
Written and Illustrated by Kate Cullen
Copyright ? 2015 @ Kate Cullen
OTHER BOOKS BY KATE CULLEN
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Lucy goes to the Halloween Party (Early readers)
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CONTENTS.
1. Me, the Weirdo
2. All About the Gang
3. Cool Dude Super Spy
4. The 'Sort of' Cool Group
5. Koolbar Princesses
6. To Stalk or not to Stalk
7. The 12 year old Stalker
8. My New Boyfriend
9. Football Hero
10. It's Finally Here
11. The First Cheeroff
12. Who Made it?
13. Something's Going Down
14. And the Meanness Begins
15. Mom the Dragon and Dan the Stinkbomb
16. The Kitty Terrorist
17. Sneaky Tactics
18. Time to Take Action
19. Something Smells Fishy
20. Something Stinks
21. The Dirty Deed is Done
22. Home Sweet Home
23. Detonated Disaster
24. Little White Lies
25. It's a Miracle
26. Truth and Lies
27. The Truth Hurts
GAME ON BOYS EXTRACT
1. Me the Weirdo
There are things about me that I will never be able to tell you. They're too dark and too scary; well maybe not really scary, but weird, really weird. I mean, I don't even know you yet. What if you're not cool enough to handle the stuff I might tell you? You might lose it and freak out completely, or worse still, you might think I'm a wicked liar. I'm not superwoman or anything like that, but the things I can do will blow you away. I suppose I could give you a quick little rundown about my life and see if you can dig that. Then later on, maybe I can divulge the more nitty gritty, gruesome stuff.
My name is Lily which is short for Lilymandra. I was born two hundred and eighty-six years ago in a volcanic eruption of crystalline and ash. I don't like to say that I'm 286 years of age because that makes it sound like I'm really old and decrepit. So I just tell people that I was born two hundred and eighty six years ago, and I have a really good skin care regime. Most people just laugh or snigger in my face when I say that. Especially the grown-ups. Some even tell me I'm too cute. Then they turn their backs and chuckle together.
I guess by now you probably have a picture in your mind of some disgusting gremlin looking creature straight out of the pages of Harry Potter, with wispy bits of silver hair, wrinkled features and a long pointy nose protruding from ancient spectacles. Exotic crystal earrings hang from oversized, weathered ear lobes, because I have to have crystal. Yep, crystal is my thing. I have to wear crystal, like, all the time. Crystal to me, is like armour is to Ironman, Spinach is to Popeye, a pencil is to Mr Squiggle and kryptonite is to Superman. Hang on, that's wrong. Kryptonite kills Superman doesn't it?
If I don't wear crystal ?..actually I'd better not say. You really don't want to know, believe me! And I don't want to scare you off just yet. Maybe I'll wait until you're a bit older, like when you're 50.
2. All About the Gang
Actually, I don't look like something out of the pages of Harry Potter at all. I'm just like every other 12 year old girl in the seventh grade, with strawberry blonde hair tied back in plaits. Mom says it makes me look like Pippi Longstocking because of the few freckles that sprinkle my face.
I live in my denim shorts mostly and I wear loom bands all the time; up my arm, round my ankle and even on my toe. Once I even made one big enough to go round my waist, but it busted when I farted. My dad calls me 'Loom band Lily' and unfortunately my snotty nosed three year old brother, Lukey, copies him. The only problem is, he's still learning to talk properly and it comes out 'Woom band Willie'.
Dad is a salesman. I'm not really sure what he sells though. Most of the time he just takes people out to lunch and rings Mom to say he doesn't need any dinner that night. She always says "good," and we all get to eat baked beans?again. I love baked beans maybe once a week, but three times a week!!!!
And you know what they say about baked beans, well it's true. Boy do they make my brother fart, and he's not shy in letting us know about it either. My brother's farts are deadly; deadly in smell, deadly in sound, and deadly in their ability to suffocate the poor person unfortunate enough to be standing behind his butt cheeks. His butt missiles have enough ammunition to make your face squish up into a dried sultana. Actually baked beans do kind of make me fart too, but I don't let anyone know about it. I sneak off to my bedroom, and if I can't escape quick enough, I blame the dog.
Mom, whose name is Fiona, works part time at the shopping mall in a clothes store. She says she is a 'fashion consultant' which is really cool because sometimes she gets to bring stuff home for free and I get to go and check out all the new clothes and try some on. Mom's boss says I should be a model when I grow up, but I don't think he's for real. I think he's just trying to suck up to Mom so she'll do some extra shifts, but Mom says she already works long shifts at home as a slave. She's always saying, "I'm not a slave you know, I'm not a slave," like over and over again. Ok Mom, we know you're not a slave, you're a 'fashion consultant'.
We also have a cute little pug dog called R2D2 even though he looks like Yoda. He has one black eye and one pink eye and a bit of curly hair around his neck like a woollen scarf. Mom thinks his dad was a poodle and his mom was a pug dog, which means he's not a pure breed pug dog. Does that means he's a poogle or a puddle?
Even though he's very cute and adorable, he has one tiny problem. You know how some dogs like to eat things they shouldn't, like pebbles, and bark and stuff, well my dog likes to eat leggo blocks, but only the mini ones thank goodness. Mom keeps saying one day he's going to poop out a star wars battleship. She says the most ridiculous things sometimes. And Dad always has to be funnier than she is of course.
"It's a pity he doesn't eat colored crayons," Dad says, "he might poop out a rainbow. And there definitely wouldn't be a golden nugget waiting at the other end either," he says. Really! My dad is just as weird as my mom.
I also have a black cat, Mr Sirpuss (every girl like me needs a black cat).
Oh I almost forgot. There's this other creature that inhabits the house. It slimes around one of the bedrooms and occasionally when it thinks no-one else is home, it slinks out and raids the fridge, leaving nothing but a shrivelled up piece of lettuce and a few nuts and bolts on the ground. Later on, when its belly is bulging with satisfaction, it sits like a sloth at the PlayStation and the occasional grunt i
s heard. I think there must be super glue on the bean bag because the creature seems to get stuck on it while it wrestles the remote control for hours on end until my dad comes in and says in a police officer's voice, "Move away from the PlayStation."
"Daaaaad," a muffled grunt comes from somewhere in the bean bag.
"I repeat, move away from??.."
"DAD! I'M GOING! Why can't you just leave me alone? So sick of this, grunt, grunt, grunt, mumble, mumble, mumble." And the creature creeps back to its flea infested cave. The creature's name is Daniel, which is short for 'Dopey Dan' or 'Drop-kick Daniel' depending on how much he's annoying me. He likes to call himself 'Dan the Man'.
Dopey Dan is in actual fact my bigger brother. He's the one that does all the super dooper farts after baked beans, not Lukey. Dan is bigger, fatter, dumber, but definitely not older than I am. He's 15 and in the tenth grade at high school, so that makes him about 271 years younger than me. And boy does he act it. Sometimes I think Lukey has more maturity in his nappies than Dopey Dan has anywhere.
Dopey Dan actually has a girlfriend would you believe? Her name is Ariana. I don't think she has an intellectual disability or severe cognitive issues or anything, but there must be something missing up top where the grey matter blobs around. Seriously, how can she bear to go out with him? Maybe she's forgotten to clean her glasses in the last five years and they're a little gooped up. Actually, I don't think she wears glasses. Maybe that's the problem; she needs to. Perhaps he pays her in chocolates to be his girlfriend. It's got me stumped that's for sure.
Ariana is actually an ok girl. Dad calls her the grand Ariana after Ariana Grande. God Dad is so embarrassing. I think he might even be more embarrassing than Mom!
Talking of embarrassing, the other week when Mom and Dad were at work, I sprung Dopey and Ariana doing 'you-know-what'. KISSING! (In case you didn't work it out.) I was at my friend Mishy's house as it was a student free day. Ariana and Dan were supposed to be looking after me. His style of babysitting is to give me five dollars and say, "Get Lost!" I did get lost for a while but I had to come back home to grab my iPad as Mishy and I were going to make a Video star movie. I burst through the front door because I was in such a hurry, and Dopey Dan seemed like he was wrestling Ariana on the couch. When I came in, he kind of did this whacky triple somersault into the air, lunged over to the other couch and did a face plant into the kitty litter. Eewgh!!!!
Then he swore at me under his breath!
If it wasn't for my little 'differences', we'd be just like any other normal, suburban family. It's just that there are a few peculiar, inexplicable occurrences that happen from time to time that leave Mom and Dad a little mind-boggled. In fact every family I've ever had (and I've had a few), has always been a little bit mind blown with the things that happen in their otherwise normal, boring everyday life.
3. Cool Dude Super Spy
I've had many life epochs, and in each one I always have a mission. But I have to remain confidential and inconspicuous at all times, which means, I'm not allowed to tell anyone about myself. I have to work 'incognito' like some cool dude super spy without being noticed. In my current epoch, I have to 'save the world' masquerading as a 12 year old sassy school girl, which is lots of fun.
But I can tell you, it's hard to get people to listen to you when you're trying to prevent them from entering their death car, when you're just a kid. I remember vividly how hard it was last summer to convince a fifty year old man dressed in a classy business suit not to get into his flashy sport's car because I was just a dumb kid dressed in a bikini with multi-colored zinc splattered all over my face.
That really happened at the local pool last Summer. Maybe if I was twenty-five, wearing a mini- skirt, low cut top, black boots and hot red lipstick, he might have actually listened to me. But since I was just an annoying, gum-chewing, freckle faced twelve year old, he didn't, and well, the end result wasn't too pretty. I still remember my diary entry that night.
Saturday June 18th 2014
I walked into the pool today and the first person I laid eyes on was Craig, surrounded by a harem of bikini-clad girls. Craig is the captain of the football team at school and one of the junior life guards at the pool over Summer. He's in the tenth grade but he looks like he is a senior. He has the dreamiest brown eyes and olive skin bronzed warmly by the Summer sun.
I quickly scanned the area for a familiar face so I could stop feeling like a drop kick loser with no friends. As I started putting on my multi-colored sunscreen whilst surveying the area, I noticed Craig step away from the pack of hungry female hyenas clawing at his body and start to walk over in my direction. I looked behind my shoulder to see what gorgeous girl he was headed towards but I couldn't see anyone. When he got to me, he stopped and reached out tenderly towards my face. 'OMG OMG OMG!' I thought. 'He's going to touch me!'
Then, just as I thought I was going to make spectacular contact with the ground, face first, he spoke to me. "You have a big blob of zinc in the corner of your eye. Have you ever had zinc in your eye? It really stings."
But before he could complete his heartfelt charity mission, that familiar feeling came over me. My mind became dizzy, my body started to shake and I felt hot and sweaty all over, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the school's cutest boy was speaking to me. I dropped my zinc tube and bag, and raced off through the front gates and out onto the kerb as fast as I could, leaving several of the girls laughing madly. I'm sure they thought I was a stupid seventh grader embarrassed speaking to a boy.
I saw my target straight away. Mr Fancy Pants getting back into his flash sports convertible after dropping his fancy pants daughter off. Tiffany was probably the richest, most gorgeous girl in the eighth grade at my junior high. She also happened to hold the title of meanest and snobbiest. Actually mean is an understatement. She's more like a tyrannosaurus rex with hot pink lipstick and salon straightened hair.
As I saw the devastation flash through my mind I begged him not to get in the car. I warned him that danger lurked perilously close, but he looked dismissively at me and bellowed. I know I looked ridiculous rapping on his window. Some people walking into the pool whispered to each other and they too probably thought I was a ridiculous spotted face child.
Well I warned him. He survived fortunately, but the sports car wasn't a pretty sight apparently. And I heard he was in a wheel chair for six months.
They're the sort of things I have to do; serious things that can save people's lives instantly in the physical sense. My job is done swiftly and the target moves on, unaware that something has intervened to alter their course and protect them from an unfortunate circumstance.
Then there are the things that take a lot more time, and I have to provide my service slowly and thoughtfully over a longer period, sometimes months, sometimes years. These things don't always affect the subject's physical safety, but their happiness and emotional welfare.
And that's exactly why I found myself being born into the Samson family during this life epoch and living on 108 Rowntree Lane. There was someone else living on the same street and she needed the help of a good witch. She just didn't know she was about to be saved from one of the most humiliating and embarrassing experiences a teenage girl could ever possibly have.
4. The 'Sort Of' Cool group
Life at Green Valley Junior High is pretty good. I'm in the 'sort of cool group' at school. Not the super cool gang, who are snobs, not the jocks who are awesome at every sport, and definitely not the geeks, nerds or dorks. We're just hanging round in the middle there somewhere. There are four of us girls who hang out together and sometimes Alex. Alex is a little crazy at times but he's heaps of fun. He's always telling jokes or pranking us. Occasionally the boys tease him for mucking round with the girls, but he doesn't let it worry him. He says the boys are just jealous. He still does all the boy type stuff like baseball and computer games and farting, things like that.
Then there's Maddy, Mishy and Sara
h who make up our gang. Maddy is pretty, with long blonde locks that frame her blue eyes and naturally toned face. Sarah has long dark hair and wears it in plaits like me. She has braces on her teeth which she absolutely hates but we don't notice them anymore. My mom says one day when they come off, her teeth will be a work of art and we'll all be jealous. Sarah is super good at everything she does. She's on the school basketball team, tennis team and in the school strings group.
My BFF is Mishy. The only word to describe Mishy is cute; a cute little package with brown eyes, a little button nose and silky, brown hair that she wears tied up in a high pony tail. When she laughs it sounds like a tinkling waterfall. She's so small she could fit into my school bag. In fact once we tried to squash her inside it, to smuggle her on a family holiday.
We were going camping in the mountains and Mishy really wanted to come with us. She's an only child and hates having to stay at home with her parents doing boring stuff, so we hatched a plan to smuggle her in my school bag.
Our plan was going smoothly until she let a little fart go off in the school bag, followed by a giggle while Dad was packing things in the car. He pretended he didn't notice as we continued, but he kept saying, "phewie, what's that stinky smell coming from your school bag? Have you left old egg sandwiches in there? It smells like an elephant's fart after eating a ten course dinner of baked beans." And then when he tried to pick the bag up he added, "this bag is so heavy, I think there 'is' an elephant in here, possibly even two, and possibly even an elephant poo ?.ewghh! I'm a poet and I don't know it," and he laughed his head off at himself. My dad the crazy poet.